


Single’s Night

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem with getting pissed at a Valentine's Day single party is you might just find yourself up against a wall being snogged to within an inch of your life by a tipsy Harry Potter. Who you definitely still can't stand. Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Single’s Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Writcraft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/gifts).



> **Warnings:** Er, drinking?
> 
> **A/N:** Written for Snape_Potter’s Valentine’s Day Comment Fest. This was a fill for a prompt by Writcraft. 
> 
> **Beta(s):** None, poke me if you spot anything.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Single’s Night

~

There are execrable Valentine’s Day decorations scattered everywhere, but since Severus has bet Minerva he could stay for at least an hour, he has to do it. After all, he’s never reneged on a bet before, and has no plans to start now. 

Under the circumstances he knows alcohol is his friend, so he makes sure to stay close to the bar while he waits out the clock. 

“‘Attend a Valentine’s Day singles party,’ she said. ‘You’re sure to meet someone compatible,’ she said.” Severus huffs as a passer-by eyes him and hurries along their way. “And now she has me talking to myself. Salazar.” 

Growling under his breath, he snags another drink, it’s probably his third or fourth of the evening (but who’s counting) and goes to stand by the door. Soon he’ll be able to leave, his conscience free and clear.

He’s already scanned the room looking for prospects, but no one appeals. This one’s hair is too fair, this other’s torsos too slight, another’s eyes are not…brilliant enough. 

Severus checks his pocket watch again. Thirty minutes. He sighs and downs his drink. Another’s definitely in order. This is a matter of survival, after all. 

He’s lost count of his drinks when it happens. 

“Snape?”

Severus looks up when his name is called. It takes him a moment to focus, and by the time he does it’s too late to evade the person hailing him. And of course it’s, “Potter.” 

“You came to a singles night?” Potter is swaying, clearly three sheets to the wind. Or perhaps he’s the one swaying, Severus isn’t sure anymore. 

“Obviously.” Severus is proud he didn’t slur the word. 

Potter smiles. “You’re drunk!” 

“I’m…slightly inebri— yes, maybe.” Severus squints. “Why are you here? You’re not shingle. Shingle. Thingy.” 

“Sure I am.” Potter’s smile deepens. “I’m as _thingy_ as you are.” He looks around, then leans in. “So far the night’s been a bust, though. I’ve not seen anyone of interest.” He winks. “Well, until now.” 

Severus blinks, but the room remains half in and half out of focus. “Are you flirting?” he asks. 

Potter hums. “Maybe. Do you like it?” 

No, Severus intends to say, but his mouth isn’t listening to him. “Yesh.”

Potter laughs softly and moves closer. “Damn but I wish you were sober,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing Severus’ cheek. “But you’re clearly not, and you’ll probably not be pleased with yourself in the morning.”

At that moment, Severus doesn’t care about the morning, all he cares about is the delectable scent of Potter’s hair, the warmth emanating from him. Shifting, his lips brush against Potters and spinning them around, he presses Potter against the wall and plunders his mouth, exploring at his leisure.

Potter makes a noise in his throat and then he’s kissing Severus back, sliding his hands up and under Severus’ shirt, dragging him closer. When they separate, Potter looks dazed. 

“Lesh go,” Severus says, pulling Potter towards the door. 

Potter resists for a moment. “Are you sure—”

“Jus’ take me home,” Severus says. 

Potter hesitates, then nods. “Right. Come here.” 

And the last thing Severus recalls is the squeeze of Apparation. 

“Ow.” 

“Take this.”

Severus cracks an eye open to see a phial in front of him. He’s so far gone he doesn’t even sniff it to assess the contents, he just downs it. Poison would be preferable to how he feels. 

His head clears and, exhaling, he opens his eyes and sits up. He’s on a sofa.

“I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee or tea person, so I made both,” says a familiar voice. A very familiar voice. The events of the previous evening roll through Severus’ mind with regrettable clarity. 

Severus groans, closing his eyes. “Tell me I’m hallucinating.” 

“If you were hallucinating, why would you hallucinate me?” Potter asks reasonably. 

Fuck. Severus exhales, opening his eyes and looking up at Potter, who has two cups in his hand. “Coffee,” he croaks.

Potter hands him a cup, keeping the other for himself. He then sits down in a chair across form Severus. “Better?” he asks. 

Severus grunts and finishes the coffee in a few gulps. “This is your place?” 

“Yep.” Potter sits back in his chair. “I don’t know where you live or I’d have taken you there.”

Severus swallows hard. “My…apologies for last night,” he says stiffly. 

Potter leans forward, his hands cradling his cup. Severus recalls how those hands felt on his skin and he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Which bit are you apologising for?” Potter asks. “I rather liked what we were doing before you passed out.” 

Severus’ head pops up and he stares at Potter. “You…what?”

“I liked the kissing we did.” Potter smiles faintly. “I was hoping we could do more of it now that you’re sober.” 

Maybe this _was_ an elaborate hallucination. Severus sets down his cup. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” Potter stands, holding out his hand. “Aren’t you tired of being single?” 

Severus is. He takes Potter’s hand, allows himself to be drawn to his feet, into his arms. Their kiss this time is slower, deeper. Severus is walked backwards until they’re in the bedroom and the backs of Severus’ knees are hitting the bed. Potter’s body is molded to him. “You’re sure about this?” Severus whispers as their lips part.

Potter’s smile promises untold pleasure. “I was sure last night. Are you?”

Minerva will be insufferable. Nevertheless, Severus takes the plunge. “Most definitely.”

~


End file.
